


Concerto For Two Violins

by Leocante



Category: Breddy, TwoSet, Twosetviolin
Genre: Bad Puns, Boba Tea, Classical Music, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Never Have I Ever, Not Actually Unrequited Love, and just for a moment, there was only one blanket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leocante/pseuds/Leocante
Summary: "What's going to be different, anyway? According to Ray we act like married couple, our fans are writing fanfictions about us, don't tell me we can't spend one evening holding hands."In which Eddy and Brett go to The Party as a pair and feelings happen.
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 70
Kudos: 307





	1. The first movement: Adagio

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I wrote this as a joke, but it turned out better than I anticipated. (Just a quick warning: English isn't my first language, be kind please.) Enjoy some extra bottled up mutual pining!

"Bro, what's wrong?" 

Eddy watched in horror as Brett moved towards the camera to tun it off and officially calling out his bullshit on the way. He was slightly panicking the whole day, but the charades were worse than he feared. He guessed that was the last straw, the sounds he produced on his poor violin were just horrible, his fingers stiff and knuckles white. Game-over. He is going to die.

"What if I said that everything's fine?"

Brett took a step closer and tried to lock his eyes with his best friend. Unsuccessfully. 

"I wouldn't believe you, of course, you are looking like shit. Did you see your bow-hold? It's worse than the stock photos, man. You look either ready to find Thanos or to flee any second like you saw a group of angry violists prepared to kill you for all the jokes. So once again, Eddy, what's wrong?" 

Eddy didn't move a muscle for the whole time, his wrist uncomfortably cramped around the neck of his violin and jumping out of the window on his mind. He saw Brett slowly approaching him but was still startled by the soft fingers removing the violin from his grip. He selfishly let it happen.

"I messed up." Eddy murmured.

"The piece? Yeah, it was horrible, bro. Your pieces played on the chicken sounded better. Violist would be ashamed."

"I don't mean the piece. But well, that too."

Brett put Eddy's violin safely back in its case and closed it with loud Bang. The sound seemed to have the desired effect, Eddy's mind automatically telling him it was a B flat and very quickly continuing with the fact that he's still standing in the middle of the room like back in his student years when he couldn't find a practice room. He tried to pull it together and at least appear somewhat normal, but judging from Brett's expression, he wasn't doing a very good job. 

He must have looked miserable because Brett outstretched his arms in a clear invitation for a hug, no more questions asked, just a subtle "Come here." After all these years it really shouldn't amaze him how well they knew each other. Offering a physical contact as a form of comfort? Sign him up.

Eddy gratefully took the few steps forward and buried his face in the soft textile of a black Practice hoodie, trying to calm the hell down a little. It's not a big deal until he makes it one, right? Or so he kept telling himself.

Brett hold him close and Eddy tried to match his breathing to the slow steady rhythm. His heart was still doing staccato, but now he couldn't tell if it's because of the way he worked himself up or because of their proximity. It was too long since they did this and he treasured every single second. Their shared moment of silence. It was a sudden stop, the whole rest in the middle of a concerto.

It was over too soon. 

Eddy easily spotted the silent 'Are you okay' in Brett's eyes and gave him an almost unrecognizable nod in return. 

"So, are we going to get a delicious grand boba to deal with a grand problem or what?" asked Brett with his signature smile, doing his best to show him that everything is okay, whilst leading Eddy in the direction of their shoes. 

"I hope they have an XXL option today because we are going to need it," said Eddy, more confident about the situation than a few minutes before. His friend was the best friend he could hope for. Really. And getting a boba on the way? Amazing method of coping.

They quickly got dressed into light denim jackets and entered the fresh air awaiting outside the door.

The walk to a closest boba shop was fulfilled just with their shoes landing onto the hard surface and the familiar sounds of the city life. Eddy tried to think of the perfect way to deliver the news, but eventually gave up and focused on the feeling of a gentle breeze caressing his face and warm rays of sun warming him up from inside. 

The moment of peace didn’t last long.

They were stepping inside the small shop too soon, the place tucked between two bigger buildings, almost impossible to find if you weren't looking for it. It was that kind of a place someone recommends you because somebody told them about it, not the one you can find on Google with stars and review. It was out of the way, miniature, little bit shady and opened for 24/7. It was the best boba shop in the whole world. 

They said hi to the cashier, a small girl with a shy smile and no nametag, who was surprisingly the only staff they've ever encountered. (Which was weird. Once or twice they came to buy boba at 3 p.m. and she was still there. Brett had at least four theories, most of them including vampires and/or pagan deities. Eddy thought she had an identical twin.) Whatever she was or wasn't, she started to prepare Eddy's drink as soon as she saw him go through the squeaky door, giving Brett time to decide on his order. 

Maybe she was an angel. 

And she was definitely too good at her job. 

They had their drinks in no time and, without saying anything out loud, decided to grab them to go, despite being the only customers and thus having the right for a comfortable old couch seated next to an even older piano. (It was a piece of beauty and maintained in a perfect tune.)

Brett held the door for him.

Eddy said goodbye to his safe place and walked into the big scary world with a milk tea in his hand, new hope in his soul and a permanent stone on his heart. It was time to talk. 

So, he took a comfort sip and started, "I promised we will go to the Orchestra reunion."

You see, it wasn't a normal orchestral reunion party. This was The Orchestra Reunion. The party. It was known for its unique structure and place – two nights in an otherwise unused concert hall under reconstruction, for all the people whose names meant something in the music world. (Mostly friends from uni, but still.) This evening was special because of something called The Show Off. Everyone who came to the party had to prove their worth, which was stressful, and it also limited the number of invitations to fifty. Nothing more, nothing less. Fifty young, talented people, which meant the maximum of fifty plus ones. And not everyone came. Being invited was a big deal but actually having the balls to come was a story on its own. 

With this settlement was possible to get an invitation from someone who couldn't make it. A chance for unrecognized talents who were smart enough and confident enough to sneak inside and show off. At The Show Off. It was good for exposure and new connections, or you could've embarrassed yourself and go spend the rest of your life in a hole.

Brett got his first invitation a year prior to Eddy, which resulted in a biggest conflict they have ever had. Eddy was not going to be a mere plus one and Brett was too happy to really care. They fought. Eddy slammed the door. Brett found a plus one and went to the party. They didn't talk for two weeks. 

Eddy got his invitation the year after and hid it from Brett. He didn't say a word and wanted to surprise his friend at The Show Off with a perfectly prepared piece. (It was a serenade. Not that Eddy would admit it.) But the plan was ruined because Brett never showed up. Eddy learned at the party from a cute saxophonist, that he's there on Brett Yang's invitation. 

The next year they both got the envelope for being the youngest concertmasters in Australia, together with the unspoken rule of not talking about the event. 

It went like this for about ten years, sometimes none of them getting an invitation (2015 when they officially quitted in the orchestra) but mostly both of them fishing the envelope from the mailbox. (In 2016 for a sold out Sydney Opera House or in 2017 for the first crowdfunded classical world tour). They never said a word. Never even acknowledged it. Until this very moment.

Brett looked at him like a massive stone dropped from his heart. "Thank god, I thought you're breaking up with me!" he said in a high pitched voice and pretended to start fainting, the dramatic hand against his forehead like a very exasperated damsel included. And grinning like an idiot.

Eddy couldn't help it and erupted in laughter at the sight, the sound calming him down ever so slightly. But there was more to it than just going to a party together after ten years of dodging the subject. 

"In fact, I'm getting together with you, because I promised we will go as a pair."

Brett looked at him with his trademark deadpan face while sipping from his boba, which could mean literally anything. Eddy decided to elaborate.

"I met a girl, a fan, a flute, whatever. And she really wanted to go as my plus one. Apparently, we've became quite a story at the Reunion, the guys who are always invited but never come."

Brett looked slightly amused by that.

"So, she really wanted to go as my plus one and I was late already and didn't want to spend the time arguing about why I don't want to go, so I told her I already have a plus one. But she was really annoying, bro, and kept insisting. She even told me, I quote," Eddy did quotation marks with his free hand, "The flute isn't the only thing I can blow."

Brett tripped over nothing and nearly spilled all of his precious boba tea on his shoes. "Was she good?" he asked after maintaining his balance with a poker face that could kill gods.

"Yeah and she- What? No! Why?" Eddy shot him a meaningful glare. "She was not my type and on top of that she was a fan, so," he mentally prepared for what’s to come and prayed to all the deities for help, "So I told her I'm gay."

Brett stopped dead in his track. Eddy thought he screwed up but couldn't find any sign of disgust in Brett's eyes. Just the deadpan, unimpressed expression. He carried on.

"I told her I'm gay and from there she was like," he pitched his voice annoyingly high, "Oh my god, you and the one with glasses, huh? How long are you guys an item, hmmm?" he coughed after the gold star impression of the poor girl. 

"I really needed to get rid of her, bro, we had to film these videos and stuff and I didn't wanna be late again, and I just went with whatever she said and nodded my way out. I even agreed to give her mine invitation, since we will be using just one and-"

"So, we are not only going to the party about which we never even talked, but also as a couple?" Brett interrupted his rambling and once again started to walk in the direction of Eddy's home.

"Yeah… How are you so calm? I’m lowkey freaking about it for a few hours now."

Brett took a sip. „Bro. I hula hooped while playing Paganini on stage with Hilary Hahn, I’m practically immortal," he grinned, and Eddy found the safe ground again. "What's going to be different, anyway? According to Ray we act like married couple, our fans are writing fanfictions about us, don't tell me we can't spend one evening holding hands."

Brett returned to his drink at hand, seemingly unfazed and unaffected, if you didn't notice the new spring in his step. 

Eddy didn't notice.

"Two evenings. It's two nights, bro. The first for the music and the second one for drinks, remember?" Eddy smiled widely at his amazing friend, bright and radiant as the sun. "But you’re right, we’re practically immortal by now."

"Imagine the story this will make. Let’s do it!" Brett raised up his nearly empty drink in toast, "To the flutes!"

Eddy raised his cup too.

"Yeah, to the flutes."

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	2. The second movement: Andante (con moto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have to come up with the perfect battle plan for, well, tomorrow. You can't always procrastinate your way onto the top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promised second chapter! This time more touchy-feely, muhehehe. Enjoy!

It was a lazy Thursday evening. The sun slowly moved towards the horizon, disappearing behind it and leaving an army of pinkish clouds in its track. Brett and Eddy were sitting, by now mostly laying, side by side on a sofa, enjoying the tranquillity before the storm. And the storm had to come. 

For the last three days they were successfully dodging the topic. They didn't talk about it, but in their minds they both ran through at least million made up conversations - it almost felt like they weren't cowards. 

Like right now. Comfortable on the sofa, heads full of what ifs and their mouths locked on a key.

Or not?

"What's the story?" Brett decided to break the silence in the exact same second Eddy said, "We don't have to do this."

They looked at each other, startled, and their combined laughter carried through the room and told Eddy that they are not chickening out now. It was too late for that.

"Bro, this is the most interesting thing we're doing since the crowdfunding challenge! And that's off the charts, to be honest. I'm ready to fool them all!"

"Gotta fool them all!" Exclaimed Eddy and threw his arms in the air, nearly slapping himself in the process. Brett tossed a pillow at him, for good measure, but suddenly got more serious. 

"I'm okay with this only if you're okay with it, Eddy."

"Then we're doing it," answered Eddy with more certainty than he felt and stretched out his legs. "But thanks for asking me. Consent is very important these days." 

" _Bach_ in my time, it was a whole different story." Brett followed without missing a beat.

"Just don't say that all the jerks were _Haydn_ then, please."

"Oh right, you wouldn't _Handel_ that."

All the seriousness flew right out of the window and Eddy felt once again like this was just another evening of Music & Chill. Uncontrollably laughing with his best friend. Just like it should be. But now, they had to think of a battle plan.

Eddy quickly got his thoughts back on track. "You were right, we need some believable story. I'm sure Ray is going to be there." 

"Oh shit, I totally forgot about Ray! Man, this is going to be hard. How do we convince him? And not just him, Phoebe, Emma and Tijana too! They will be ready for any bullshit we might throw at them."

Maybe it was going to be harder than he anticipated. "Let's just say we kept it quiet because of our fans?" Eddy propped his head with a pillow, trying to find answers to his existential crisis on the white ceiling. 

Brett was more sceptical. "Yeah, but when did we get together? They are going to ask questions."

"What about somewhere around your Tchaik drop? It's not too long ago, so we could easily keep it in secret in front of our friends. And at the same time, it's long enough for them to know we're taking it seriously." Eddy's brain was on fire.

"Romantic. And it also points out that we're morons. Because who else would wait thirteen years for starting a relationship? It's too real, bro." Brett chuckled for himself.

"But the important question is, who told who?" asked Eddy with a playful smirk. "I bet I confessed in a very sweet and creative way." 

"That's a fucking lie, bro, you would either sulk for years 'till I asked what's happening or kissed me in the heat of the moment without a warning." 

Eddy shot him an amused smile and Brett sank further into the sofa. 

"Don't give me that look, you know I'm right!"

"Let's go with the second option, then. After we ended the stream? That sounds about right. After we stopped the camera, I've kissed you and then probably ran somewhere to hide," decided Eddy, marvelling at how well his friend knows him. The first guess was absolutely and disappointingly real. "But I'm glad we agreed you wouldn't say anything like that to me, ever. You would rather become a doctor."

"What can I say, I'm champ in holding feelings inside." Brett hugged a pillow and buried his face in it. He looked cute. 

"Besides, can you imagine the conversation? God, that would be awkward." 

For a moment, they got lost in their minds, both trying to imagine a world where they weren't fucking cowards. One conversation could've change everything. But they weren't going to risk their friendship over that, not now and possibly not ever. It was the lesser evil.

Eddy imagined, like many times before, how would their first kiss go. Would it be soft and gentle or wild and hungry? Would it be natural, like playing a duet? Or would it take time to get used to the sensation? Would it- Eddy's brain stopped at the thought of having their first kiss in public.

"We should rehearse it." That was the sentence which rolled out of his mouth. Good job, Eddy. 

"We should rehearse what?" Brett straightened his back and the pillow fell on a floor. He cleared up his throat to get rid of the slight panic audible in his voice. Eddy didn't hold it against him.

"I mean, you're right. It can't look like we're holding hands or... kissing for the first time. We can't afford rookie mistakes." 

Brett's laugh felt fake and it occurred to Eddy that his friend might not be comfortable with the physical side of their 'relationship'.

"It's tomorrow, we have a day to get prepared for whatever happens. And the rest is going to be an improvisation," said Eddy gently.

"Fuck, I suck at jazz." 

They fell into yet another fit of laughter, this time genuine, not pretended. It was a music to Eddy's ears and he mindlessly got closer to the source. Brett's glasses started to slip away from his nose, but before he could lift his hand to correct them, Eddy's fingers already brushed his face and took them off entirely. He handled the glasses with care, gently laying them onto a table next to his own, a remote controller and two empty cups of tea. 

Brett stiffened and watched Eddy move back with wide eyes. Who knows what he could see, but his other senses were perfectly fine, thank you very much. He didn't miss the fact that Eddy sat back a lot closer than before, their sides touching.

"Is there anything you're not comfortable with?" Eddy decided to ask, which was a lot easier than trying to read minds. 

He leaned playfully into Brett's personal space. 

"Do you want a _Liszt_?"

At that moment it occurred to Eddy that he might've chosen a bad opponent, because Brett gave as good as he got. It shouldn't surprise Eddy nearly as much as it did when Brett leaned against him and enlaced their fingers seemingly without a second thought. "I'm okay with holding hands," he grinned and squeezed his hand.

Eddy followed the movement. It felt too easy, too natural. He squeezed back to show he is okay with that too.

"I hope we don't have to do any _Chopin'_ later."

Brett chose to ignore the pun and carried on.

"I'm okay with casual touching." 

Eddy closed his eyes and leaned back, bathing in the feeling of light butterfly touches caressing his face. Brett's fingers were careful and soft, mapping and exploring the new territory. Eddy let him. 

Brett let his thumb slide across Eddy's lips. The feeling was electrifying. Eddy opened his eyes.

"What about kissing? Is kissing okay?"

The answer was immediate and confident.

"Kissing is okay."

Brett leaned forward, gallantly leaving just enough space for Eddy to chicken out.

He did no such thing.

In fact, he met him right where he stopped, sealing their lips together.

The angle was all wrong. Circumstances even worse. But right there, with no distance between them, they were just two boys kissing on the couch, with TV still on and happily playing some romance or other and beautiful sunset behind the window. 

They weren't paying attention to things like that. 

Eddy's brain was on fire, and if it weren't for the couch, his legs would give up on him in the first second. God bless the furniture. There were no fireworks, no fanfare, but the kiss was soft, almost shy at its nature. The first kiss of lovers – the one they would never forget. 

He wanted to be selfish, to stop the time and never let the moment end. He wanted to give in, to forget the world and live the oh so beautiful lie. 

Brett broke the kiss.

But only for a moment, solely to climb into Eddy's lap one second later to kiss him without the pain in his neck. (Blame the height difference.) He tangled one hand into Eddy's hair and the other into his Geniuses are born, not created t-shirt, turning the innocent kiss into something more than a touch of lips.

It felt too nice, too good to be true and Eddy had to keep reminding himself it was just for the show. They were practicing for tomorrow. It wasn't real. He was just swinging with the plan.

_It felt more real than anything._

(The fire under his skin. The fire was ruining him, burning him from the inside.)

He was sure Brett must feel the flames dancing between them.

"I can hear you thinking. Stop. We aren't doing anything logical."

The words should've ruined the moment, but Eddy was couldn't bother to open his eyes and return to the sad world where they were just best pals, not boyfriends, not lovers, not yet.

He placed his hands on Brett's waist, small smile playing at his lips, mind wondering about the fact he can, that he's _allowed_ to do that.

Maybe his possessive side was showing.

"You're right, this is crazy. We are probably going to die in hell for this."

"But first, we have to totally nail it, bro."

The smile in Brett's voice made Eddy look at his best friend. He was not prepared. His head was illuminated by the last rays of sun, creating a red-and-golden halo shining through his messy hair, lips red and kissable, eyes sparkling with mischief. This boy meant trouble. 

Gods help him, he was absolutely stunning.

Eddy felt his heart do accelerando and Brett shot him amused smile, like he knew something was up, like he knew what's Eddy going through right now. Maybe they'll kiss again and proclaim their undying love? Nah. That would be too easy. He suffered long enough to endure few more years. Or decades.

Instead, he started to worry about clothes, above all things.

He had his childhood (13 years is still a baby), teenage and adulthood crush literally sitting on his _lap_ , and the were _kissing_ , but he thought about clothes. It was easier, simpler. Probably not going to ruin the rest of his life. 

"Are we going to wear matching clothes?"

Brett laughed freely at that. "What about wearing our merch? The first night. I know we have to shine for the party."

"You're right, it's not like anybody cares what you wear if you play the Bumblebee under fifteen notes a second."

"Nooooooo," Brett fell from Eddy's lap onto the couch, laughing and untangling himself from him. "But really, do you have any idea what to play for The Show Off?"

Eddy thought for a second. "We could probably sightread Paganini or do a Ling Ling workout, we're in the position to get away with anything."

"We can compose some major jazz, bro," Brett sighed and Eddy could almost see the lightbulb pop up above his head. "Or, we could use it so sell our lovey-dovey-totally-not-fake relationship!"

Eddy was on board. If he's going to die, he'll at least do it with style, right? 

"Do you have some duet in mind?"

"We can't get fancy, the only duet we know for sure is Navarra and that's just desperate. But we can use the pieces we know by heart and still remake it in something original, right?"

"Are you possibly talking about making Tchaik and Sibelius a fierce and passionate duet? Because if you are, I'm in!" Eddy could already imagine the atmosphere he wanted for the piece.

"The best thing is, we've done that already! With their second and third movements." Brett got into sitting position once more, removing any physical contact between them. "We can recycle that and put the signature first movements on the beginning, throw some dramatic lighting on top and pack it up with a kiss or something."

"And add a lot of acting. It's a good thing we're more youtubers than classical musician right now, this is going to be good!" Eddy sat straighter with a newfound energy. "I can totally see it, bro! You know how there are the three lodges above the podium? You can start with the first part on the right lodge, the piece is just made for being dramatic in the dark. After a few bars you can go pianissimo."

"And that's the time you'll come in softly with the Sibelius opening! And I'll stop playing and try to find whoever makes the sound. Are you on the podium or on the left lodge?" Brett took his glasses back and Eddy knew he went in full business mode. "Don't answer that, definitely on the podium. Let's make a solid Romeo and Juliet out of it."

"Don't you mean Romeo and Romeo?" Eddy smirked. "And I'm calling dibs on the Romeo."

Brett shot him an amused glare.

"You are standing under my window, confessing your undying love, I guess you can be one of the Romeos." 

Eddy couldn't hold back his laugh anymore and Brett went down with him. What a time to be alive.

"We should try it at least once," said Brett. "It's not like I don't remember the Tchaik, but I haven't played it since the drop."

"Yeah, sure, I have some big memory gaps when it comes to the second movements interlacing."

"Time to practice!" exclaimed Brett and managed to pull Eddy from couch into a standing position.

The sun disappeared behind horizon.

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	3. The third movement: Allegro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day on the party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there again! Welcome to the party. 
> 
> For those of you who noticed, I had to add one chapter because this one is too long :3
> 
> Enjoy!

The next day didn't look in any way different from the day before. In fact, it could be easily mistaken for any day in the week, maybe Tuesday or even Monday. But the truth was, it was Friday. The big day, the time of an annual Orchestra Reunion.

Eddy double checked himself in the mirror (still looking as good as the first time and second time). They agreed on the merch for the first evening and he chose the pink Sacrilegious hoodie, just for the dramatic effect of being slightly visible in the dark. 

He swung his violin case onto his back, grabbed the bag with his things and he was good to go. 

They settled for meeting outside the concert hall, because Brett was the only one with an invitation and because they were a couple and that's what couples do.

He was Brett's plus one. 

Ten years ago, he made a fuss about going as the plus one, the sidekick, the one who wasn't invited and technically doesn't belong to the party. Those were the times! He was confused, humiliated, drowning in a world where girls were hot and guys pretty, his violin overwhelming and not enough at the same time, while his best friend was put together and successful. Was he jealous at the time? Yep. Is he over it? Of course, it was ten years ago. 

Ok, mostly.

But he was Brett's official plus one today and not the 'I don't have anyone so I'm going with a friend', but the actual romantic companion. A fake one, but still. It's the closest he can get.

He looked at his Practice o'clock watches and realized he should get going, or he'll be late yet _again_.

And he was nervous even without the pressure of time. No thanks, he didn't need more things to worry about than he already had. Does he have the violin? Still in its case. Good. Is the phone on? It is. He was ready.

He was not ready. All the 'it's okay, just another day of acting' flew right from the window when he saw Brett in front of the massive white building. He was armed just with a violin case and small bag at his feet, already chatting with a girl in which Eddy recognized Phoebe Russell. (The double bass at her side was big enough clue.)

It didn't occur to Eddy that he would have to jump right into his role, he expected something like a wink or at least a discussion and agreement, but now in front of the witness it was time to go full force. 

Time to perform.

He saw the tension in Brett's shoulders, but he knew him well enough to tell that his nervousness always disappears after the first bow stroke, like it never existed in the first place. He just hoped it's going to work like that in this situation too. Or they are screwed.

It appeared he didn't have to worry about his accomplice in crime. As soon as Brett saw him, he started waving enthusiastically, a big smile plastered on his face. 

Eddy considered running to meet him but decided it would be too much for now. He sped up his pace a bit and his next move was in the stars. 

Should he kiss him on the cheek?

Should he kiss him?

Should he-

Brett saved him from certain death of overthinking and took the two remaining steps between them to jump Eddy around the neck with a small "Hey" falling from his lips.

"Hey to you too," responded Eddy and dropped his bag onto the pavement to hold his friend closer. It didn't have any right to feel as intimate as it did.

Eddy locked his eyes with Phoebe and sent her a wink. She had a dumbstruck expression on her face and looked like her mind was trying to sight read Giovanni Bottesini and sing at the same time.

The game was on. 

Eddy took the opportunity to step it up and whispered, "What would it take for you to start blushing?" right next to Brett's ear. He prayed to gods it looks like the most romantic thing under the sun.

"Apparently not even the president" came the muffled answer from somewhere around his neck. "But I'm always up for a challenge."

Well. True. That was fair.

"We have a deal. Let's spice things a bit up."

Eddy was quite confident in his ability not to blush, so he called it a fair game.

They didn't have the time to go into details, because that was the moment Phoebe's brain started working once more. She looked at them, standing there in a very loving embrace and the first thing she said was: "Are you fucking with me or did I just win twenty bucks?"

What? 

Eddy put some space between himself and Brett once more, their hands naturally enlacing. 

Phoebe went feral. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I won a bet after many long, long years! The rumours were true!"

Brett glanced at Eddy and he shrugged. Was there a bet on when they get together? Is he really that bad at hiding it?

The situation was a bit different than they thought.

Phoebe welcomed Eddy with a wry hug, a smile on her face. "Congratulations and all that, but I'm starving, and you can tell the story to the whole gang over some good slice of pizza."

She basically pushed them in the direction of entrance, both grabbing their bags on the last possible moment. They were still holding hands. Eddy was getting used to it.

He smiled at Brett as they walked through the door into their personal hell for the next two days.

What are seven minutes in heaven in opposite to two days on a party?

Their first stop was the cloakroom, where they put aside the light jackets and bags. Brett was wearing the black Sacrilegious hoodie.

"Bro, we're Sacrilegious today!" Eddy exclaimed and pointed to his pink hoodie.

"We're the Sacrilegious boiz, _babe_." Brett raised his voice a little, putting emphasis on the word 'babe'.

Eddy caught on quickly. He couldn't call his partner, significant other, his fake boyfriend bro.

It didn't stop his heart from jumping at the nickname. 

They didn't notice Phoebe moving her double bass on wheels through the corridor (Takes an effort. She was literally moving double bass.) and overhearing the conversation. 

It was the first shadow of doubt, this early into the game. 

Instead of noticing important things Eddy locked elbows with Brett, like two gay gentlemen two centuries ago, and dragged them into the concert hall. 

The place was bigger than he remembered. Ceiling somewhere up in the sky, decorated with paintings, seats in semicircle around the main podium, reaching higher and higher with every row. The stairs in between each section made it look like a half of a pizza cut into pieces. 

Or was he just hungry?

The main theme was wood and white colour, but the intricate masterpieces above his head made it look pompous. This was the perfect place for performing Bach.  
The podium was local curiosity, it could be bigger by removing few first rows of seats or smaller by adding them. It was also the reason why was the reconstruction taking more than fifty years now. The parts were delicate, paintings old and funding low. 

And of course, there were three lodges above the podium. A bit of a wild card when it came to acoustic, but they had to somehow replace the old organ pipes which were removed due to water damage early in the 1920s. The wall still looked a bit empty, but it was a good try.

Eddy saw the place only in the state in which it was even today. The room for orchestra just big enough for one hundred people and their instruments, third and fourth rows of seats loaded with food and soft drinks. (The perfect distance for not spilling your Coca-Cola in someone's trombone.)

Alcohol was for later. You know nothing about pain if you never heard bunch of drunk strings playing Paganini. And not just the violas. Wrong note on the E string with violin and you're the devil.

There must've been more than sixty people already, but the space made them look just like a one class of musicians.

"I forgot how big this place is." Said Brett with awe in his voice, looking at the ceiling.

"It's a shame they are probably never going to finish it." Eddy followed the motion and almost jumped out of his flesh because another voice from behind his back loudly acknowledged its owner's existence.

"Actually, their plan to start a crowdfunding campaign later this year."

"Ray, you are going to be my death if you sneak up on me one more time!" Eddy was laughing hard, covering up the manly squeak he made beforehand. "But I'll forgive you, because we haven't seen each other in ages!"

"Father forgive me for I've sinned." Ray whispered and theatrically looked at the ceiling.

Brett completely lost it. 

"You've seen him crawling to me!" accused him Eddy and poked him into the side. "I thought you're supposed to protect me from the big bad monsters!"  
"I'm sorry, babe, but you should've seen your face. It was meme gold. It's a shame we don't have a camera rolling in there." Said Brett, trying to get back his poker face.

Eddy turned back to Ray. "You can't find any prince charming these days. They are all trolls and psychos, trust me."

Ray nodded sympathetically.

Then the last few sentences caught up with him. 

"Wait, babe?"

This was it. The big confrontation. They either pass or they won't.

Brett enlaced their fingers once more, it seemed to have the desired effect on Phoebe, why not on Ray? And carried on. "We are dating. Officially."

How Eddy wanted to hear those words for real. 

But instead of self-pity, he let himself enjoy whatever he could get out of it. He showed their enlaced hands into the air and yelled "Boyfriends!" so loud it had to be heard even at the podium, where a clarinet and saxophone had a competition who can play longer without breathing. 

Ray looked at them suspiciously. "Why do I have the feeling you're just trying to mess with me?"

Oh, exactly the reaction they anticipated. Good. They had a plan for this.

Brett took a step closer to Eddy. "I know it took us impossibly long, but Eddy stopped being a coward and asked me out." 

The lovesick expression on his face looked real. Eddy returned it with the best heart eyes he could do.

Ray gaped at them. "I knew it! You," he pointed to Brett, "are a chicken, mate. I told you it would go okay if you tried!"

Told him what? When?

Eddy looked at Brett, who just shrugged like he didn't know what was going on either. Suspicious, but it wasn't time to deal with internal drama. Eddy couldn't start hoping after all these years. 

Ray was meanwhile doing a weird celebration dance, the violin on his back dangerously jumping up and down. He was also singing "I lost five but got ten," to the tune of something dangerously close to the Moonlight sonata.

Eddy guessed it was the bet once again. But still, it didn't take that much to convince Ray, they didn't even need to go with the second part of the plan. They and their fake relationship probably passed to another level.

"Emma!" yelled Ray suddenly on the classical saxophonist Emma di Marco, currently chatting with Alex Rainieri. "You owe me five!"

Eddy saw a confusion on her face come and go, while her eyes went from Ray to them, standing on the stairs hand in hand. "No way! Congratulations, boiz! And welcome at the party!" she smiled at them and waved. "Ray, we'll do the math later, we have to tell the whole squad!"

The whole squad? Just how many people betted on their relationship?

Brett looked at him with a 'What the actual fugue' written all over his face and decided to ask now, not suffer forever. "Thanks, Emma! Just a quick question, how many of you traitors betted on our relationship?"

"Better question would be who didn't! And I bet my sax that we're not the only group. You guys are fairly popular. But, can you blame us? You did it to yourselves!" 

"Is she referring to that one video where we read the fanfiction?" Brett whispered.

"Or the two guys one violin? Editor-san gave it a nice pinkish cover." Eddy perfectly recalled the emojis in the thumbnail.

So this really was hell. 

Ray was watching them with amusement. "It was a lot more than that, mate, you were the most obvious mutual pining sharp," he did a hashtag with his fingers, "I ever had a pleasure to see."

Mutual?

"The perfect friends to lovers sharp!" added Daniel Jang, appearing next to Ray.

Eddy heard "Oh no, there's two of them" from Brett and was the first one to start the collective fit of laughter. 

"The most insufferable slowburn in on the Earth sharp!"

"The not so unrequited love sharp!"

Not unrequited? What was going on? Eddy refused to hope. He got his heart shattered already, he didn't need any more blows.

"Okay, we get it!" Brett tried to catch his breath. "We are morons!"

Daniel whispered, "Idiots in love sharp" and the laughing started again.

They were all red faced and out of their breaths, panting like they ran the stairs and smiling at each other.

Ray greeted them both in a half hug. "I missed you guys here. It's not a party till Twoset arrive."

Daniel jokingly saluted. "But we managed to make it one hell of a ride!"

Of course they did, they had ten years to adapt. But today was the day when he and Brett were going to show them how to party!

"You guys should read fanfictions less and practice more." Said Brett, with badly feigned offence. His hard won pokerface was cracking around the edges and his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But it's good to see ya'll." 

Stepping up his game, he rose onto his tiptoes and pecked Eddy on a cheek, with a clear intention to make him blush. Well, yeah, that wasn't happening. They were in each other's personal space half of their time in front of a camera. Playing on one violin? Checked. Squatting back to back? Done and over with. A little more violation of his elbow room was not going to make him blush. It was just very, very distracting. 

Eddy decided to repay him nevertheless. This game was for two after all. He kissed him lightly onto the forehead, continued onto the tip of his nose and went right for the lips. Public affection wasn't exactly his forte, but Brett made it easier by leaning his head back and looking as cute as ever, not a bit embarrassed about the public.

"Get a room you two!" yelled Ray while his face got progressively redder and redder.

Interesting.

Brett wiggled his eyebrows at Eddy, and he knew that they were thinking the same thing. Why going against each other when they could team up on some mutual _easier_ enemy?

They kept sending lovesick looks and exchanging small touches and kisses through the rest of the conversation every time Ray was losing the lovely colour. And every time it worked.

Daniel quickly noticed what was going on and looked like he would cry from the way he was trying so hard not to laugh.

"I can't take it anymore, you were already acting like a married couple, but I swear you just got worse." Ray had had enough of them. 

Eddy winked at him.

"You're doing it on purpose!" The disbelief in his voice was bordering on comical. 

Daniel erupted in laughter.

"You. You're a danger to society!" Ray pointed at them, trying to maintain his offended composure and failing hard.

Eddy kissed the back of Brett's hand. 

Ray blushed. 

"I'm going somewhere they'll respect me!" he gathered up the remains of his dignity and stuttered away in the direction of food.

"Yeah, I bet pizza will make him feel loved." Daniel had the nerve to say louder than needed.

He got a middle finger as a response.

They all snickered at the childish behaviour. (Like they didn't start it themselves.)

"Oh no, we teamed up for the Show Off this year, I gotta make sure he won't die somewhere in pain." Daniel was looking somewhere behind Eddy with a startled expression.

Eddy looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, it looks like he's asking for trouble. I'm pretty sure he'll try to stick a ball into some wind, better make sure he does it unsuspiciously."

"Oh fugue, you're right!"

Happy babysitting!" called Brett after him with a grin.

"That was wild." Told him Eddy and squeezed their still interlaced hands, mostly on impulse than for anything else.

Brett immediately returned the squeeze and sighed "Let's put our violins somewhere and visit Phoebe and her pizza. We have some talking to do."

"I don't think I was ever looking forward to anything more than the Show Off right now. No talking required there. Unless you're a singer."

He got a smile for it and they made their way to the hoard of musical instruments, wrapped carefully in their cases, most of them with colourful nametags. You don't want to lose your flute on a place like this. For some reason, even the piano had around ten nametags stuck to its side. 

Interesting/10

They were back in no time, chatting with friends, greeting new faces (weren't they technically the new faces?), laughing at jokes, eating and most importantly jamming with others. They also told Phoebe & squad the short version of their love story, enough to satisfy them, but not enough to sound too enthusiastic to share.  


On all other questions they used the magic sentence: Wait for the Show Off.

It helped to build the tension before their number and also got them one or two moments of calm. By this time everyone knew about their relationship. It was a bit scary. 

The other scary thing was that all the violas disappeared into one of the soundproof rooms on the side of the building. Truly horrifying.

He and Brett were mingling with the crowd, most of the time together, but every now and then loosing track of each other. They always found their way back.  
Eddy got sidetracked again, this time by the flute who started it all. He didn't know if he should send her to hell for opening the old wound or kiss her hand for giving him a moment or two to remember for the rest of his life. Like the whole previous evening.

But she was polite, and they had fun while trying to play a duet none of them really remembered. It looked like she was just desperate to get there and once she did, she turned out just fine. 

Aside from the questions right into the bull's eye.

"Don't get me wrong, but there is something weird about you two."

Ah, crap. It was nicer when she couldn't talk. (Good thing about winds. They can't ask questions while playing.)

"I just keep getting longing vibes from you, not loving vibes. The way you stare at him only when he's not looking." She carried on with a knowing smile. 

"It's an appreciation for his cuteness." Eddy tried to cover it up. They couldn't afford mistakes. 

"Let me just tell you I didn't believe you when you first fired the boyfriend thing on me. And I don't know if I believe you now."

He was panicking hard that day, it wasn't flawlessly executed. But if someone had right to doubt them it was this girl.

Eddy locked eyes with Brett on the other side of the podium, currently trying to play something on the poor piano with a small crowd around him. Brett figured out who the girl next to Eddy was in no time at all and excused himself. On his way to rescue him like the proper prince charming.

He didn't need to be rescued, but it still felt good. 

The girl noticed Brett too and was ready to yeet herself out of there. 

"Never leave a man who comes to save you from conversation." She said with a laugh. "Just tell me, do you love him?"

Maybe he needed to be saved after all.

"Of course. Of course I do." It came out a little bit more vulnerable than he wanted.

She sent a polite nod to Brett. 

Eddy didn't like the smirk playing on her lips. "Do you believe me now?" he asked a bit louder to stop her from saying anything else. Brett possessively glued himself to his side. 

She looked him straight into his soul. Right through the lie they were playing.

"I do."

He had a bad feeling she knew exactly which part of their little game wasn't feigned.

A loud sound of gong signalized the start of The Show Off.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the places are made up. All the people are real (aside from the flutist who strated it all) check them out! They are crazy skilled and fun!
> 
> The videos I'm talking about are  
> 2 boys 1 violin https://youtu.be/ifSJ7pW3whU  
> Two violins One BAE https://youtu.be/pbkOscGeYLY  
> Ling Ling Ching Ching Workout https://youtu.be/7ZRMkAK1BkY
> 
> And tell me which instruments am I forgetting! I want to include as many as possible.


	4. Cadenza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Show Off!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's me again! As you can see, the Show Off got itself a whole chapter, so enjoy the cadenza!

#### Cadenza

>   
>  _noun_
> 
> _A virtuoso solo passage inserted into a movement in a concerto, typically near the end._

"We've all gathered here today," said the violist standing in the middle of a podium "to properly welcome Twoset here among us!"

Two rows of violist appeared behind his back, all serious and with a soldier-like posture, their violas and bows crossed in a threatening way.

Eddy had to admire their dramatic entry. They looked like a cult. Or a gang.

_Viola gang._

He didn't have time to share the sentiment with Brett because the main violist (The viola king?) shouted. "Who are we?"

The answer came in unison. 

"Violas!"

"What do we want?"

"Equality!"

"When do we want it?"

"Now!"

And then they started playing The Flight of the Bumblebee.

It was a peak comedy. Ten of the best violists they have ever had a chance to know, some with whom they even played in a quartet, all standing in a row and killing their strings.

Every few seconds the viola king pointed on someone with his bow and they started playing pieces written for violin. With the accompaniment of nine bees.

Then he turned right at Brett and Eddy. "We've named this piece The Rage of Violas. And we won't stop till you agree that violas are equal to all other strings." 

The audience was either booing or cheering.

The music went quicker and quicker, more painful to listen to.

Someone sneaked in few notes from Sibelius.

It was the most aggressive thing Eddy has ever heard. And the most iconic. It was impressive. He looked at Brett.

Brett looked at him.

Brahms's violin concerto joined the ride.

The violists were really good at playing really bad. True masters of their craft. People in the audience started covering their ears.

Someone butchered a note in La Campanella.

Eddy's perfect pitch was dying. 

And that's how they were forced to promise the equality to violas.

* * *

(Other memorable number was Ray and Daniel, who reacted The Loss. And it took everyone embarrassingly long time to catch on. When one cellist finally asked, "Is this the loss?" it was even funnier.)

* * *

It was nearly eleven at night when was their time to shine. They bribed a lightboy to do some magic with spotlights and prepared for the show.

Eddy went onto the podium and Brett disappeared in the back, hopefully finding the entrance to the stairs leading to lodges.

Some of the people liked to make an intro, saying who they are and what are they going to do. Not Twoset. Everyone knew who they are and they'll with some luck catch on what they're doing during the show. It was a _Show_ Off for a reason after all.

The lights went out.

Eddy wasn't nervous at all. Sure, it would be much easier to relearn some duet or other and swing with it, but doing things the complicated way? Sounds more like them. And he believed in their abilitz not to screw this up. All those Ling Ling workouts must've been for something.

There was a silence full of expectations. He himself didn't know how it would turn out. They didn't have a chance to try it with the lights and balconies and stairs, it had to be perfect on the first run. That was the risk of their job, having a wildcard on set and when something went wrong – improvisation. 

It was exciting.

Suddenly, a bright beam of light illuminated the right lodge, and everyone could see Brett, standing close to the railing with his violin ready and an aura of sadness, instantly captivating the audience. He was looking down, but it was like he didn't see anyone. His eyes weren't focusing on the hundred of people watching his every move, nor at Eddy, who was standing on the podium swallowed in the dark, overshadowed. 

The first bowstrokes of Tchaik powerfully cut through the silence and resonated inside the concert hall, resonated in Eddy's head. It was much more espressivo than he ever heard it Brett play, more aggressive and passionate. Almost frustrated? 

It was the same old song. Everyone heard it already. Its beauty shouldn't surprise them all after the 2 mil drop as it did. Eddy heard few sighs from the audience. He almost wanted to let Brett play the whole concerto again; it was mesmerizing to hear.

But he had to stay focused, never once dropping his character. Which consisted from staring lovingly at the man standing in the light above his head. Not the hardest task.

Brett went pianissimo and after the rich beginning it made the impression as if he was disturbed in his playing.

Which he was.

Eddy started to play the first note of Sibelius. Long and silent, gradually taking up on the volume. That kind of note you notice and can't tell for sure when did it start, when was the first time you heard it. It was just there. 

His entry was meant to be stretched out; the notes somehow unsure. Longingly hanging in the air. It made a stark contrast against the confident Tchaik. 

The longer he played, the surer his melody reached up those highs and it almost felt like asking a question. 

He was rudely cut off by the trademark Tchaikovsky violin concerto pattern. Brett tried to act like nothing happened, ignoring the second melody and carried on.

Eddy joined in again, this time more forcefully, the notes urgent and demanding. Asking a question.

Brett's sharp retort made him keep silence for a moment. Good thing about Sibelius was that the music gets more aggressive in no time at all. 

They got into a conflict. A debate, maybe. 

Brett stopped after the last interruption and looked down under him onto the podium with a clear intention to find whoever is playing under his balcony.

There was still no light directed at Eddy, but his light pink hoodie kept him just a slight bit visible in the darkness reigning around him.

This time it seemed like Brett saw him standing there on the podium, alone with his violin and his concerto. After a small pause, he decided to talk to him.

And talking they did. Through music.

They skipped the forte parts of their first movements. The tones went gentler, flowing, not pushing. They found a rhythm, melodies clicked right into each other. There was something comforting about the ease with which they played their parts. 

It was challenging to play a duet while not seeing the other person at all. Challenging, but not impossible. They were playing together, but at the same time, they were soloists. It was like a concerto for two violins.

They both picked up their volume and speed, Eddy started to skittishly pace on the podium, like he wanted to go up and join the second violinist in person, but didn't know how.

That was the time for another beam of light to come on the scene. It showed the corner where the doors leading onto the top were.

Eddy jumped right into the Sibelius's third movement and Brett followed him after a short pause, skilfully interlacing his third movement into it. It was like a soundtrack for a chase.

And chase it was.

Eddy made his way to the door, praying that the wall isn't soundproof and running up the stairs while trying to maintain the rhythm. He knew Brett was pretending to look for him on the podium, his part getting nervous and worried.

He got to the left balcony. The light was now right into his face and it wasn't comfortable at all. He looked over to the right lodge. The music was cut off. Brett made a damn good job with looking startled when their eyes locked. 

Brett played the most recognizable pattern of Tchaik.

Eddy answered with Sibelius.

At the same time, they continued with the third movements where they left off and both disappeared from their lodges. Eddy aiming for the right one where Brett was standing before and Brett ending up on the podium.

One exchanged look.

Eddy played the Sibelius.

Brett played the Tchaik.

They picked up again the third movements, with a feeling of something desperate. This time was the white spotlight pointing to the lodge right in the middle sooner than they got there. 

Nobody from the audience dared to move, all caught up in the story, their eyes focused onto the balcony.

Eddy was the first one to make it there. Brett carefully stepped into the light just a few heartbeats after.

The third movements came to a sudden stop. The prolonged silence between them was almost hearable.

Brett played the Sibelius. He played it like a question, like he wasn't comfortable with it, like it was something he tried to play for the first time and took a step closer.

Eddy played the Tchaikovsky. He played it like an answer, confidently and with a sure hand, the sound clear, warm and comforting. 

He stretched the last note.

Silence.

They kissed. 

It was different from the kiss they've shared the evening before. It was different from the little kisses they've exchanged while playing happy enamoured couple. 

There was something about the spotlight and the silent audience, never once letting themselves known. There was something about the adrenaline in their blood, about the pride they held so dearly for the other. 

Sure, their glasses clunk together, and they were holding bows and violins in their hands, but the way they couldn't keep from smiling against each other's lips felt almost familiar, like this wasn't the first time for them. Like it wasn't the first time they celebrated a successful show with a kiss. It felt like saying 'good job' and 'that intro was beautiful' without saying anything at all.

It was more painful this way.

It was as if they narrated their love story, but this time with a happy end instead of the disappointing reality. 

They parted.

Brett took a deep breath, like he wanted to say something, something that weighed on him. 

"Eddy? I-"

He never got further.

Because in that moment all the hell broke loose. 

The lights returned back to normal and their audience, the colleagues, former schoolmates and friends started clapping and cheering, the sound so loud that they almost couldn't hear their own thoughts. Someone yelled "I knew it!" with a volume of classical singer.

New sound joined the chaos. It was a single note, coming from Ray's seat. It wasn't even noticeable at first.

But one by one, the musicians caught on and picked up their instruments to follow his example. 

It went like a tide and soon enough no one was clapping or yelling.

"Is that an F?" asked Brett, disbelief clear in his voice.

"Yeah. I think they are paying respect." Answered Eddy with equally dumbstruck expression. He took two steps closer to the railing to take a bow.

Brett followed him.

It was surreal.

All those instruments united to play one note, to say their congratulations and good job, showing that they're with them and above all, that they've made an impact. 

"I feel kind of bad for them now." Said Brett on their way back onto the solid ground while trying not to kill himself on the stairs.

Eddy felt the same. Lying to all those people who were nothing but welcoming and open minded towards them didn't feel right. Their play pretend spun out of control.  
"Just one more day. Then we can feign a breakup or something." 

Brett just hummed in response. It didn't look like he wanted to return to the sentence he started with on the balcony.

He didn't push him. 

* * *

The rest of the night passed away in a blur. They tried to do an orchestral version of the wii music, which sounded much better than it had a right to. Someone lost a bow and someone else had their rosin cracked. The pianists ganged up and scanned the whole concert hall and everything connected to it, because someone stuck a nametag with the name Daniel Thrasher in between their names. It might've been Ray, but Eddy wouldn't bet on it. 

Speaking of which, all their friends disappeared onto a war meeting, possibly setting up their money. 

Yeah, good guess, but that didn't happen. Phoebe had some doubts from the beginning. But she wouldn't have addressed it at all if it wasn't for one particular flute who planted a seed in her head. She shared her doubts with the rest of the crew. 

Better safe than sorry, right?

Instead of balancing their wins and losses somewhere in a corner, they invented a battle plan. After all, when they all thought about it, why nobody knew anything if Twoset were together for what, two months now? Three? And no one heard a word? Highly suspicious. Worth investigating.

Brett and Eddy were playing Paganini on one violin (they ended up winning the competition), completely and utterly unsuspecting of the storm which was coming their way.

When they finally decided to call it for the night the podium already looked like a minefield of human bodies. It was something past three o'clock in the morning when they went looking for a place on the floor, trying to be as silent as possible. They found a space big enough for them near the rest of their squad which Emma must've protected with her body.

When Eddy hugged Brett from behind (he didn't really have any other option because he forgot to bring his blanket like an utter dumbass) and spooned him, there was no resistance. In fact, Brett shifted even closer and made himself comfortable in Eddy's arms.

Maybe it was because of the weariness.

Maybe it was because of something else. 

They drifted off to sleep while silent notes of Tchaikovsky's Pathetique, played skilfully and maybe a little bit sadly onto the grand piano, carried through the darkness.  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter coming soon!


	5. The fourth movement: Prestissimo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party and everything which comes with it. Slowdancing! Taylor Swift! Never have I ever!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it guys, this is the last one. Enjoy!

Eddy woke up unexpectedly well rested, comfortable and warm. He closed his eyes again, not ready to rise up yet, only to notice that he didn't have any blanket and despite his body being warm, his feet were freezing off. Logical solution? Sticking his legs closer to the heat.

"Cold!" 

That's when he realized he was the little spoon. Oh.

"Dude, bro, babe, stop it!" Brett woke up faster than ever before and desperately tried to untangle himself and get away from the cold thing attacking his legs.

Eddy turned over and tried to strangle him with an evil laugh and determination worth two adult beginners, but the only thing he found was a blanket burrito, completely protected and as he knew, ready to defend itself.

Among them two, he was the ticklish one.

And the little spoon, apparently.

"You stole the blanket!" He at least tried to win the less physical fight from a safe distance.

"I didn't!" Brett glared at him, his face only visible part of his body. "And it's technically my blanket."

He had the nerve to smugly grin.

"It's our blanket!" Eddy poorly defended himself, but the sight in front of him was too cute. And he lowkey missed being spooned. Two victories for Brett in a row and he wasn't even mad. 

But the people around them were.

"As much as I love domestic fluff, I love sleep more." Came muffled from Emma, who had the bad luck to sleep right next to them. "I'll get you guys for it later."

It was meant like a threat but sure didn't feel like it, coming from a pinkish cocoon.

Eddy and Brett laughed at that, waking up even more people in the process. 

Emma joined them, so it probably wasn't that lethal.

It was the start of a new day.

* * *

As the evening approached and the people had changed their clothes from pyjamas and things they wore the day before to party outfits, the atmosphere shifted too. As soon as they got the grand piano to safety from the most dangerous place – the dancefloor – and turned on the speakers, there was no trace left of competing against each other or showing off. The first night was about music, the second one about people. 

Eddy and Brett met outside the bathrooms, grinning cheekily at each other, because the party had just started.

Brett wore a black tee, tighter than his usual ones and a light blue denim jacket over it, probably to save at least a bit of his dignity. (Not that he had some left.) The artistic composition of messy hair suited him well and the overall black colour of his outfit matched with his glasses and gave life to the blue. Eddy would complete it with a choker, but that probably wasn't happening.

He himself was dressed in a loose white shirt, tucked at the front into his torn black pants to flex his belt and a suit jacket on top. He looked a bit K-pop-ish and sacrificed quite a bit of his time to make his hair look good. It was worth every second.

They made their way to The Measure (a bar) improvised close to the main entrance, in the cloakroom. They had the much needed space there and the closest thing to the bar table in the whole building.

And by 'them' he meant two most important people in this corner of world. A cellist, whose plan B was bartending (if anything goes wrong, I can at least know how to drown my sorrows) and a pianist, whose sister was a psychologist. (Every bar needs its own therapy corner.) They were an unbeatable duo. One fixing you a drink and the other telling you not to do the stupid thing. Like majoring in music. 

Ehm.

They chose a drink by its name, Brett getting the new and exciting Raging Viola, crimson red liquor which tasted like hell. At least it was served with a cocktail umbrella. Eddy went with the Overtones, an old time favourite classic. A drink looking clear enough to be mistaken for water, but much stronger and much more dangerous than that.

The music was blasting through the speakers with the volume of a full orchestra and if it was this bad here it had to be even worse at the dancefloor. The basses resonated in Eddy's bones, although he didn't know the song. He didn't feel connected to the music, not yet. 

He got pulled into a chat with one of his former classmates but kept listening (not eavesdropping, listening) onto conversation Brett led with the pianist.

She was showering him with free knowledge. "Do you know you can't be angry at someone while maintaining a skin contact?" 

Brett looked up from his drink, always up for knowing new things. The red in his hand gave him a nice pop of colour. "Really?"

"Yeah, unless it's someone you don't know. But in a relationship, it's a showcase of trust. If you trust this person with touching you, why wouldn't you trust them with their words and actions?"

She smiled and deliberately looked at their hands, joined even thought they were chatting with different people.

Eddy guessed she had a point. He tried to be mad at Brett many times for the last two days, but it didn't work when they were glued to the other's side, always touching. A hand on the small of his back. Enlaced fingers. Correcting the strands of hair or glasses, a collar.

She looked at them with a big smile and all but threw them out of her bar. "Guys, there is a queue behind you, go have fun on the dancefloor while it's still somewhat safe." 

Brett gulped down the rest of his drink with a grimace and pulled Eddy up and away from there. It was time to have some fun.

* * *

They kept losing traces of the other, Eddy jumping right into some dance battle, leaving his dignity behind and enjoying life to the fullest, Brett trying to teach a chicken dance to group of people and calling it a masterclass. But the occasional slowdances were just theirs.

Slowly swaying to the music and exchanging jokes about violas, Eddy enjoying the proximity, trying to embed it into his brain, because tomorrow (tomorrow already?) they have to come back to normal. 

In a moment like this Daniel found them and balletted closer, dancing with his drink as if it was a partner and performing somewhat decent turns and spins to the rhythm.

"Here you are! We're playing Never have I ever, care to join us?" He was in a good mood, at the last step almost tripping over his own feet and spilling the sharp blue drink on all of them. "Unless you're too scared to play," he challenged.

* * *

And that's how they found themselves in a practice room with the rest of their squad, plastic cups filled with Stravinsky (just call it vodka, please) and sitting into a circle on the floor. 

"This is a dangerous game; we can't screw it up." Eddy had enough braincells to remember they are at risk of exposure. He whispered the warning into Brett's ear while planting a kiss there. 

Brett shot him an unimpressed look, like if someone is going to blow their cover, it won't be him. 

Fair enough. 

Phoebe started the game. "We go with the usual rules, if you've done the thing, you drink. It's on you how much, but you drink. And no lying, otherwise this wouldn't be any fun." She looked at each one of them, like a teacher in a class. "I'll start. Never have I ever played the viola." 

Wow, that was a low blow. "I can't believe you've done this." Said Eddy while taking sip.

Phoebe looked pleased with herself for getting most of them on the first try. 

Next went Alex and after him Ray and after him Daniel and the questions were funnier and nosier with each round. 

"Never have I ever slept with a girl." Tijana wasn't afraid of it.

Eddy, already content with his fate didn't even say anything and let the liquor burn once again.

Brett didn't drink. And neither did Alex. They grinned at each other. 

Eddy had one more thing to think about. What?

Emma threw the question back. "Never have I ever slept with a boy." With a satisfied grin when Brett and Daniel lifted their drinks in a toast and drank. "This isn't fair." Groaned Eddy. 

No lying. Huh.

"Eddy, I think you're winning this game!" laughed Emma and the others joined.

He looked at his cup with less and less liquor in it.

But it was his turn, time to pay them back. "Never have I ever teamed up on someone in a game of Never have I ever!" Pretty smart right? 

Everyone drank. 

Brett laughed at him. "Do you remember the time we went against Phoebe?"

"Oh shit!" He forgot about that. 

"Yeah, drink!" Phoebe joined in. "I can't believe you're drinking even at your own question. You're the natural winner."

He was safe at Brett's question, thanks the devil. It was Alex's turn where it all started to slowly crumble.

"Since you already think we've teamed up on you, we should at least make it count, right?" He looked at the rest of the crew. "Never have I ever read a fanfiction about myself." 

Eddy and Brett drank, as well as Ray. They laughed at that. 

"What? We have the same fanbase!" He tried to defend himself. " But I'll do one better," said Ray. "Never have I ever pined for my best friend like a lovesick puppy for at least ten years."

Brett groaned. "That's so specific, man." But he drank nevertheless.

Eddy shot Ray unamused glare. That's how it feels when someone teams up on you. He took smaller and smaller sips from his cup.

But the real bomb dropped Phoebe. "I'll do one better. Never have I ever tried to fool all of my friends with a fake relationship." 

Eddy almost died unheroically right there, coughing on the Stravinsky and trying to find the moment where they lost the game. How long did they know? Is he supposed to return to his normal? What even is the normal? He thought he had the rest of the night to get on terms with it, with tasting something he could never have and part with it, but it ended suddenly and without saying a proper goodbye. Well, shit.

He saw Brett with a corner of his eye lifting the cup to his lips, which he was kissing not so long ago, with a shaking hand. Game over.

Nobody said a word while they took their sips of shame.

Was it too late to turn it into a joke?

Tijana was the first one to react. "I'll do one even better." What was she trying to do? "Never have I ever lied in a game of Never have I ever." 

Why the sudden change of topic? 

Eddy locked his eyes with Brett. His deadpan face wasn't as good as it used to be, Eddy could see the sadness and a little bit of a hope? Was it hope? 

Brett didn't drink. 

Eddy did. 

"Shit." Said Tijana. 

Shit indeed. 

Brett was on his legs in no time and Eddy's first reflect was not to think, but to stop him from leaving. He caught his wrist and tried to turn him to himself.

"Don't touch me!" Snapped Brett and pulled his hand close to his chest. He turned away and all but ran out of the room.

There was a deafening silence, all eyes on Eddy. 

He stood there, unmoving, fixated on the opened doors which were slowly closing and couldn't get the picture of Brett's face from his mind. He knew he won't ever in his life forget the way Brett's eyes sparkled with tears, not with mischief, with betrayal instead of pride. 

But what happened?

Phoebe took a few steps towards him, putting a comforting hand on his back.

And Eddy was on the verge of crying, those two days (only two days?) were taking their toll on him. Pretending to pretend to be in love was crushing him down.

"Do you love him?" asked Phoebe and he couldn't find the strength to look into her eyes. He nodded.

"Then go after him, you absolute moron! I don't know about what were you lying in Never have I ever, I don't know if it was today or fifteen years ago and I don't really care." 

What was she talking about?

"I don't care, but he does. He probably thinks you lied today, about wanting him like that. About, how was it, pining for your best friend like a lovesick puppy?"

"For at least ten years." Ray completed the sentence.

It all downed on Eddy. God, he was an idiot. If he felt a bit tipsy before it was all gone now, sobering up in a second. 

"What am I still doing here?" he asked more to himself than to anyone in particular and the next moment he was running from the room, kicking through the doors. Emma shouted something after him, but he didn't hear it.

If Brett wanted, he could easily hide in the crowd and Eddy wouldn't be able to find him, but that wasn't his style. Where did he go?

The bar? He wasn't an alcoholic. And probably wouldn't seek the only psychologist among them. He would want to be alone.

Another practice room? No, that was too close and the risk of walking into a gross couple was too high. Toilets? Fuck, he hoped that wasn't Brett's place of choice.

Eddy scanned the hall and his eyes stopped on the balconies, far above the people and in a perfect darkness. He instantly knew that was the place.

He pushed himself through the dancing people, probably stepped on someone's leg, dodged a pointing finger by a string's breadth and avoided getting drowned in beer, all to get to the hidden doors on the corner of podium. It took him impossibly long, people were drunk and happy and just didn't _understand_ he has to get somewhere, right now, not a year later.

He needed to find Brett. He needed to find him and tell him everything.

With a distant thought of _Please let Phoebe be right on this one_ he opened the doors and walked into the dark. 

The loud music made everything outside alive, but behind the wall it was reduced to a muffled melody, only the beats still drumming through him, giving him the strength to climb the stairs. He didn't turn the lights on.

Intuition led him to the lodge right in the middle. It turned out to be the right place.

Eddy felt a big stone dropping from his heart. It weren't the toilets.

The sight in front of him wasn't very comforting. Brett curled up into himself, his back against the railing, head in his hands. 

When he heard Eddy stop on the last stair, he lifted his head with a strange expression, trying to hold it together just a moment longer.

He wasn't sobbing or wailing or making any sound at all. The only sound was the pop music, inappropriate for the situation, loud and ringing in their ears. And Eddy's panting. 

But tears were running down Brett's face, although he didn't seem to acknowledge them, letting them fall freely onto his hands, clothes and rough old carpet. 

Eddy wanted to sit next to him, to hold him, comfort him, but the memory of 'Don't touch me' still echoed in his brain, hurtful and sharp as a slap in the face.

He felt too big suddenly, like he cut off the only way for Brett to run away if he wanted to and awkwardly sat on the floor, his back painfully pressed into decorative column on the side of the entrance. Careful not to make any contact.

How do you start a conversation like this?

"Hey." 

Eloquent as ever.

Brett looked like he didn't know if he should laugh hysterically or cry harder. A surprised and almost inaudible "Hey to you too" fell from his lips.

Eddy opened his mouth to finally say those words which appeared so many years ago and ever since them lived under his skin, burning him, wanting to break free.

Somehow, Brett was quicker than him.

"Don't." was what he said. A sad smile and something like a defeat in his eyes, face wet from crying, but no new tears coming, not now. 

"How long?" Asked Eddy instead. How long could they be together and happy if they weren't absolute and utter idiots?

"Ten years. Fuck, that's such a long time. Sorry." Brett banged his head against the railing. "I wanted to tell you, but it became impossible with time."

Eddy knew this feeling all too well.

"I've almost kissed you more times than I can count. After the crowdfunding challenge. After the Tchaikovsky, every time we slayed a Ling Ling workout or got the right answer in charades..." A single tear rolled down his face and disappeared behind the collar of his shirt.

Eddy couldn't stand it, feeling his own eyes water at the sight of his best friend? Crush? Fake boyfriend? Business partner? Looking so small and vulnerable.

"When you told me you love me on stage?"

"I meant it."

Oh great. Eddy was now crying too. But he held the power to change the situation, he had the key. He just needed to use it.

"Brett, I-"

"Eddy, don't, I get it, we-"

"No, you don't get anythin-"

"But-"

"No, no and no. Let me speak for a moment." Eddy took a deep breath to ground himself.

They say the first step is always the worst one. But the truth is, every step is the first one if you forget how far you've already got. He was sure he won't lose the best person which happened to waltz into his life, for the first time. It somehow wasn't less terrifying.

"I love you."

That was it. He kept these words to himself for so long they became a part of himself. It was selfish to keep them inside any longer.

Brett curled more into himself, like Eddy kicked him right into the wound.

Eddy decided to elaborate.

"I've loved you since we were thirteen and you've tried to help me with my homework even though you knew absolute shit about math."

It was too late now to go back. He carried on.

"I've loved you since I've first heard you play the violin and I've loved you the year after and the year after that. I've loved you at uni. Sure, there were few relationships then because I was trying to move on and forget about you in the romantic way. But the truth is, I never did."

He cried as he was saying this, not knowing why, just letting all those years of desperate pining and dreams and emotions into his words.

"I've loved you since we've started Twoset and I love you now."

Brett was staring at him like he woke up from a nightmare. He wiped the last traces of tears with his denim jacket and visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh, like he wasn't holding the sky from crushing him any longer. "Are you telling me that we're here crying like two overgrown babies because we love each other?" 

Eddy had to laugh at that. It was absurd. And he heard the unsaid I love you.

"And are you telling me it wasn't my bad acting which started the bet?"

"Don't even mention that, I thought I've been so transparent!" 

They were laughing, finally, not crying anymore. 

"Why did you agree to this whole craziness?" Asked Eddy, suddenly curious. "You could've just said no, and we wouldn't go, like all those years before."

"I know, this whole fake relationship wasn't exactly a bulletproof plan. It was in fact a very shitty plan. But I wanted to spend time with you, even if it was only pretended. And really, we weren't here in a decade, that's crazy. It was time for a change."

"A decade! That sounds like we're ancient." 

It felt like their normal easygoing conversation again, except with Taylor Swift yelling her heart out in the background. But something was still missing.

"Can I?" asked Eddy, not knowing at all what is he asking for, but Brett seemed to get him. Like always.

"Come here, you moron."

They hugged tightly and almost painfully, holding onto each other like it should be their last embrace. 

It calmed Eddy down. It was crazy how quickly he got used to the permanent contact and affection. He felt soft lips on his neck, along with tickling hair. 

"Let's try the kissing again, from the beginning."

"This time more espressivo?"

"Amoroso."

There was still a party going on bellow them, people dancing and singing the lyrics, shouting at each other and spilling the fancy drinks like 'The Shaky Bow' and 'Cellist's death in D' on their shoes, enjoying their lives to the fullest, not knowing what was happening just a few glances above them. Their friends were more and more nervous with every passing minute, not knowing if they screwed it all up and the police will carry bodies or if they shouldn't go into dark places for the fear of walking into them having a hot moment. 

They deserved the uncertainty. But the second option was on point. 

Until Brett broke the kiss to correct his slipping glasses and took advantage of the moment his lips were free. (Eddy wasn't particularly pleased with it. They had ten years to catch up for.) "About what were you lying in Never have I ever?" 

Eddy could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. But he answered truthfully.

"Never have I ever slept with a boy."

"You didn't?" Brett grinned at him with too much confidence and gave him a quick peck in the corner of his mouth.

"The right one wasn't available at the moment!" Defended himself Eddy with a smile.

"Does that make me special?"

"You're very special. Special pain in the ass." Said Eddy without missing a beat and kissed him onto forehead.

He got a wink for it.

Oh. _Oh._

"And you, bro, you're blushing." Brett exclaimed victoriously. 

Crap.

"But you're too, _babe_."  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
And if two violinists-youtubers helped to crowdfund money for the reconstruction of this specific concert hall, and if they made their friends donate at least the amount of money they betted on them, and if they held there a completely sold out show few years later, it was nobody's business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this fic and I hope you guys did too. But there are more things to write and more ideas to pursue, so hopefully see ya later! You guys are awesome. 
> 
> Now go practice! Go. I know you're procrastinating.


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